


They Come in the Night

by inkbug (quimtessence)



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Horror, Jossed, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-07
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1582595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quimtessence/pseuds/inkbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This "fog of mind" is as dense as any London murkiness. How much longer? To what end?</i>
</p><p>Odd occurrences in Queen Victoria's London are about to commence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Come in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially, this fandom does not yet exist as the show has yet to début, but, since I'll watch pretty much anything with Eva Green in it and _fin-de-siècle_ horror is my love, I have to come clean and say I've watched the trailers far too many times and they've given me ideas.
> 
> Will be Jossed in just over three days' time, but oh, well. Unbeta'd.

_Friday, August 31 1888_

The witching time of night has come and passed, yet I startled myself awake at my desk not long before picking up my quill once again, chiefly to write these words and give myself the moments necessary to recall that awful phantasmagoria which has inhabited my restless dreams for a sennight's time now.

The myriad sights and sounds and—yes!—even scents permeate my senses for a while longer, each night seconds, minutes, _hours_ longer than the previous, and I trust with great unease in my breast that shall continue to be so until I have accomplished the seemingly impossible: seeing through the fog.

This "fog of mind" is as dense as any London murkiness. How much longer? To what end? I scarcely know my own name but for writing it down. _Vanessa_

_Vanessa_

Yet even when my own name escapes me as if a salamander has twined 'round my neck and halted my breath until I could no so much as utter a sigh or think a thought—even when reposeful sleep defies my constant expectation of it and Morpheus slights me at every turn—even in these nights and days and nights of uncertainty, as I twist and turn through both daylight and shadows, the apparitions engulfing me to feed on my body like on a carcass under an uncompromising and unfeeling Mother Moon—even so... I know there is a design if I could but glimpse it.

Opium tonight, I think.

_Saturday, September 1 1888_

A telegram has arrived on the morning post from a Sir Malcolm Murray. Mr Murray, based on flattering recommendations from both Miss Wollstonecraft and Mrs Radcliffe, requests my urgent assistance with the retrieval of his daughter from unspecified person or persons. Mr Murray is prepared to spare no expense.

**Fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> August 31 1888: Mary Ann Nichols, found dead August 31 1888, c. 3.40 a.m., killed by Jack the Ripper  
> witching hour: midnight, three a.m., or any "dark" hour  
> sennight: a week's time  
> Morpheus: the god of dreams  
>  _Miss Wollstonecraft and Mrs Radcliffe_ : Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin a.k.a. Mary Shelley & Ann Radcliffe
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
